Together: Honor and Arms -Less Explicit
by sopranish
Summary: "I will decide what I should be doing." Castiel shows Dean that he is strong enough to make his own choices, and his choice is Dean; they are in it together. [Less Explicit] A/N: Original idea: Anything between Dean and Castiel would be innately masculine and powerful. And intense. "Honor and Arms" is a bass aria from the oratorio Samson by G. F. Handel


Castiel carried Sam to his room in an instant and without a word as Dean walked slowly from where he'd hidden the Imapala. Dean shuffled in, cursing Sam under his breath for not telling him about this sooner. The trials were making him weak and Dean hadn't been strong enough to take it on instead. Cas had been there the moment Dean called out for help, and now Cas was the one carrying his little brother.

Dean got to Sam's room just in time see Cas placing two fingers on Sam's forehead where he lie on the bed. Immediately his clenching muscles loosened, and he clearly fell asleep. Castiel turned, unsurprised to see Dean watching him.

"He'll sleep for about 12 hours. Then his pain should be subdued enough to find out more about what this is doing to him." Dean nodded, trying and failing to keep his face passive. But before he could move too far in trying to walk away, Castiel was standing directly in front of him, hands on Dean's shoulders.

"Dean, this isn't your fault- he didn't tell you. Sam took on the trials, and we'll make sure he finishes them in one piece." At 'we', Dean looked up. He couldn't think of a time Cas had ever talked about them sharing a burden, and not just helping Dean with his. He shook his head, unwilling to let himself get like Sam over things like that.

"Cas, you've got better things to do than always being here to get me out of a screw up. And I swear I'm going to beat down whatever did this to him. I should be doing—" before Dean could get out another syllable, Castiel's lips were on his, insistent and warm and claiming. Dean should have be shocked at how good it felt, should have struggled more. But he couldn't find the energy to pretend to fight it. Instead he fought only for control, claiming Cas's lips and tongue, digging into his arms and cheekbones with still-dirty fingers. He could have been clawing at a stone, until Cas suddenly pinned him against the door frame, eyes boring into him with a look full of pity, love, and an intensity so complete it was nearly anger.

"I am older and more powerful than your entire artistic creation of a species, and half the beings we've fought. I will decide what I should be doing," Cas husked. And with that sealed his lips to Deans once more…

Now, in his room, Dean sits at the foot of his bed, and takes in the overwhelming sight in front of him. Castiel, holy and powerful, kneeling on the ground between Dean's legs. His trenchcoat and jacket thrown easily over the chair, tie left somewhere behind. His sleeves haphazardly pushed up- which, considering he's always so damn covered up, would have been beyond enticing on its own. And his collar unbuttoned down his chest. Like a statue of limestone and fire, his fair skin unbroken from his face down his throat and slim but powerful chest.

And his face as fierce as the armies of Heaven as he looks down- eyebrows raised and eyes lowered in consideration- then raises his eyes to stare back at Dean. Castiel's face is almost challenging as he leans up, and with one hand on the back of Dean's head, drags him into a hard kiss. It deepens quickly, Castiel's tongue strong and filling Dean's mouth as he pulls them impossibly closer together. Dean feels the soft fullness of Cas's lips, the rasp of stubble- the masculinity of it is at once familiar, and alien in this setting. He shivers in spite of himself.

The next thing he knows Castiel is moving to stand. He towers over Dean now, looking down at him with a look of dedication and possessiveness Dean hasn't seen since he held off an Archangel.

Much later, after the lights have sparked and exploded from Castiel's crackling power unrestrained, when Dean's strong body is stunned into momentary rest, neither bother to try to let go or move in any way. Castiel turns his head and kiss Dean once again. Not soft and sated, but equal to the firm and passionate set of Dean's mouth; hard and full of meaning and truth: Despite Castiel's overwhelming power and Dean's strength and drive, neither need go it alone, ever. They are in this, all of it, together.


End file.
